


I'm Not Fine

by LadyShadowWalker



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowWalker/pseuds/LadyShadowWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash contemplates his life choices and makes a new friend.<br/>It crosses over with Malcolm’s story: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5596603">Never See Anything but Death</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Fine

Everything is okay but nothing will ever be good again.

All these thoughts running through his head and no one to talk to but his own reflection in the glare off the screens surrounding him. It wasn't so much being _alone_ ; he preferred that. It was that it was so _lonely_ now, knowing that Flint wasn't there in case he wanted company. He stood up with a sigh, deciding to go get some dinner and maybe see at least one other person today without it being from behind his monitors.

He wished he could talk to Harriet but she spent most of her time doped up on anti-depressants after her suicide attempt. There was Miller but he had been reunited with his dad, making up for lost time or some other family thing that Wash didn't understand. Wash's own parents were still missing and his hope of them being found had diminished into a realistic acceptance that they were probably dead but he still wasn't ready to grieve for them yet.

He turned with his tray of food, looking for a place to sit, preferably where no one might notice him. His eyes fell on an ideal spot and he made his way over to it. No one ever sat in the seat across from The Outsider, not even on the rare occasion Malcolm and Ophelia dined together (she always sat by his side). Malcolm had this piercing stare that creeped out some and terrified others. Wash didn't mind it so much; he had that same scrutinizing look when reading log files or editing code.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked politely.

Malcolm grunted something that sounded like a "no" and nodded his head for Wash to sit.

Wash slid his tray onto the table as he sat down and began eating. Perhaps the only thing other than his friendship with Flint that he missed since the Mountain was the food. the Mountain had the most delicious food and now he was reduced to eating this mixture of charred animal and plant sludge the "cooks" (they were barely that) threw together every evening. But, he needed the fuel and was used to it enough that he was able to shovel it down without much further thought. He finished his plate and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before standing up from the table.

"Thanks," he said as he left, taking his empty plate and tray with him.

* * *

Flint still wasn't talking to him and he didn't really feel like talking to anyone else other than William. William was the only one aside from Claire who understood what it felt like to be responsible for 350 people's deaths. Even then, Wash had known some of those people on a personal level that not even William had reached in his short time in the Mountain. Besides, William was always busy. Wash had a feeling the Council kept him so busy because if William had time to think, he'd realize what a rotten deal they were getting out of this arrangement.

That's how Wash thought of them: the rest, the leftovers, the ones who followed behind. As for himself and his fellow juvenile delinquents, he liked to think of themselves as trailblazers and concentrated awesome. The sum of his people were the forty-eight of them who were still alive. That included William and Hawk; they belonged in his group of survivors. And maybe Malcolm.

"Is this seat taken?" Wash asked, still wanting to be polite.

Malcolm shook his head, watching him as he sat down and began eating. Studying him. Wash was used to people looking at him weird. ( ~~People were weird; he was normal.~~ ) He seemed very unassuming and people usually forgot his existence but then he'd do something overly brilliant and get noticed. That's when people stared the worst, usually with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Then, he'd have to wait for them to forget about him again so he could go back to floating under the radar.

But Malcolm didn't stare at him like he was weird. Malcolm stared at him as if he existed as a person. It was a look that reminded him so much of Flint that he found it both comforting and depressing at the same time.

Wash finished his meal and stood. "Thanks," he said before leaving.

* * *

Before Wash could ask if the seat was taken, Malcolm motioned him to it. Wash forced a smile in acknowledgement and sat down across from The Outsider to eat his dinner.

He found it so hard to smile these days, not because there was nothing to smile at but because it felt so artificial and fake when all those people were dead because of him. He sighed. He had tried to form a group to properly memorialize the Mountain Men who had helped them, like Mara and Mrs. Richards, but without Flint as a ringleader, nothing had ever gotten done. Wash knew he could step up and take over but he didn't want the spotlight on him. He had tried talking to William about it but nothing ever came of it and he was fairly certain William had been avoiding him ever since.

He knew people worried about William, about the choice William made with Claire on that fateful day they irradiated the Mountain. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about Wash and his part in it and that was okay. He didn't want them talking about him like they talked about William and Claire.

What most people didn't understand is that in the time it took for Wash to access the program for the air vents to the Mountain, he had evaluated, weighed, and decided the only remaining option at that point was exactly what Claire had asked for: the complete annihilation of the Mountain Men. He could have stalled. He could have pretended not to know how to do it or said it wasn’t possible. Instead, he had given Claire and William what they needed.

Every choice Wash had made over his entire life had always been the right choice to make _in that moment_ and Wash still believed he made the right choice. His confidence in his own decision-making skills is why he didn't feel the guilt of whether or not he made the right decision. He had made the right decision.

He did feel another kind of guilt, though. Every moment of every day. His guilt was grief for those he’d killed. He mourned them and he accepted that as his burden to bear. Malcolm knew something of that type of guilt. It was whispered that he had killed and eaten people when the Mountain had drugged him.

Wash looked across the table at him. Malcolm was staring off in the distance, probably at Ophelia. He wanted to talk to him, to break this silent mealtime, but that moment had passed about two weeks back when he first sat down across from Malcolm. He shoveled another forkful of food in his mouth, still missing the taste of chocolate. Even with all the supplies from the Mountain, they were still on rations and that didn’t sit well with most.

“Do you have chocolate?” Wash asked, surprising himself that he spoke out loud.

Malcolm turned his head back to look at Wash and smiled. “What’s in it for me?”

Wash frowned. He didn’t really have anything to offer him and it was a little depressing to realize his skill-sets were completely useless to Malcolm. He didn’t have to respond because Ophelia thankfully came over and rescued them from their first attempt at the world’s most awkward conversation.

* * *

Malcolm was sitting by himself again. Wash didn’t hesitate, walking over and sitting across from him. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Malcolm said as he slid something wrapped up in a palm-sized package across the table to him. He could only assume it was chocolate. “Don’t let Ophelia see.” Malcolm nodded behind Wash as Wash slipped it into his pocket.

Wash felt like he was back in high school making deals in herbage again. His lips smirked up into his first genuine almost-smile since the Mountain. “Thanks. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” Malcolm shook his head. “Thanks for eating dinner with me.”

Wash looked down at his plate, tears filling his eyes. He had been so wrapped up in his own loneliness that he never considered Malcolm might have been lonely, too.

Ophelia came by and Malcolm stood up to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you at breakfast?”

Wash nodded, a little dazed. He wasn’t certain, but he might have just made a new friend.


End file.
